https://medium.com/repcog-intelligence/on-recording-a6f16ec63311

“There was that incident in my childhood, where me and one of my best friends, Mark Tallman, had, by virtue of colored pens and many boxes holding microscopes, legoes, hot wheels, and other ephemera, transformed my room into a spacecraft. We were playing ‘space opera’, and we had a cassette recorder running the entire time. After our ship crashed on an alien world, and we were running systems checks and trying to recover… the haunting voice of my mother calling me in her habitual vocal music was heard. And I said to Mark, ‘Did you hear that?’.

He replied in the affirmative.

So we paused our space travel and wandered around our small duplex to find my mother. She wasn’t there. She hadn’t been there for an hour. It was physically impossible that we heard that.

Yet it was on the recording.

And when my mother heard the recording, she turned white.

Because she knew, the same way that I knew … it was her voice.

But it couldn’t have been.”